Click on the above link. Once on the page, you can rotate the file by right-clicking on the document and selecting “rotate clockwise”.
This is it bloggers, I can’t believe this is the last blog ever. So to end off the year of blogs, I will be talking about Mohsin Hamid’s The Reluctant Fundamentalist.
I absolutely love symbolism and allegorical means of telling a story, because it really makes me think. Sometimes I ponder the possibilities of what a certain symbol could mean, even if I go too far off on a tangent. I love the process of deciphering a symbol: this equals this, so therefore this symbol could represent this idea. For example, the doorknobs in Foer’s Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close all appear in grandpa’s chapters. If it is just showing the doorknob, it inclines me to think the door is closed. What else is “closed”? Grandpa is “closed”. He has lost the ability to speak because of his trauma that he is trying to “unlock” throughout the story (this is a sneak peak to my essay).
Naturally, I was intrigued in the idea of Erica and Underwood Samson being symbols for America. America had quite the infamous reputation during the Cold War for trying to “help” countries become democratic. The brief period between the denouement of the Cold War and 9/11, the US actually became fairly inactive, only advising and supporting wars. And once again after 9/11, Bush and his neo-conservative policies plunged the US back years in terms of international relations. This is key, as this is precisely what Peter Morey and even Ilka Saal bring up in their essays. Morey looks at Erica being a symbol, as she has the potential relationship with Changez, possibly the symbol for America’s change. This potential relationship between East and West is looming, but Am(Erica) disappears into the “dangerous nostalgia”, rejecting the opportunity to concretely establish a relationship with this foreigner (Changez or Pakistan). Similarly, Saal argues, “the US forfeited the opportunity to reflect on injury…” (454) after 9/11. This can also be seen in Hamid’s novel by the US deciding not to intervene when Pakistan is threatened by India. This is the key symbol in Erica that I hadn’t even connected while reading the book. After reading Morey’s article, it was such a pivotal moment in my understanding of the story. It truly made me question whether or not any of the story was meant to exist or if it was all an allegory to criticize the US. This is exactly the type of symbolism I love to encounter, speculating the allegories, though I find it more satisfying knowing the author truly intended it instead of making possibly-irrational things up. If you’d like to do your monthly comment on my blog, I’d be interested in hearing what you thought about these symbols: was it too much? Did they serve their purpose?
Finally, to wrap up the last ASTU 100 blog ever, I’d like to thank every one of my fellow bloggers and Dr. Luger. It was a pleasure to be a global citizen among you, and I look forward to seeing what academic futures are in store for us!
As always, blogging off!
Ryan
P.S. The title is an obvious symbol for finishing the ‘race’ that is ASTU.
Hey bloggers,
Due to our CAP joint lecture today about Black Lives Matter I thought I would talk about subjects in each class that overlap in a few ways. In our discussion regardless of the discipline there were definitely some recurring themes. I believe the biggest idea was that of identity.
In ASTU we refer to Judith Butler and her distinctions between “us” and “them”. According to Butler, we feel responsible to a community to which we feel a belonging on the basis of nation, territory, language, or culture. Her argument is that we do not grieve people that we do not identify with, as we are not responsible for them. When discussing the issue of institutionalized racism in class today, it seems as though this would not apply to any of us, especially in a program such as Global Citizen (or am I naïve to think that?). So in America’s case, it seems there is a large population that fits Butler’s theory, as we can see in the amount of Trump supporters. However, how can we break those views of “us” and “them”? After all, black people live among white people speaking the same language, sharing the same territory.
In Geography during our Nationalism chapter we talked about assimilation in contrast to multi-culturalism. We came to the conclusion that assimilation creates resistance, as people being integrated feel oppressed. On the other hand, we thought of our own city, Vancouver, and how multi-culturalism has affected it. As we saw in lecture, there are areas created that are primarily of one ethnicity. Richmond is of majority Chinese while North Surrey is South Asian and Indian. Toronto was used as an example as well, where Markham and Brampton are primarily Chinese and South Asian respectively. These divides in the community are dangerous in the sense that it divides the population and could potentially encourage racism, but on the other hand creates more of a sense of belonging for people that identify with the majority. Vancouver can definitely be called multi-cultural, yet it is quite segregated. In the case of black lives, it isn’t the culture that is a problem since most American black people were assimilated long ago, but it is this institutionalized racism that is the issue. Nevertheless, the idea of identity and division relates.
Sociology talks about socially constructed barriers and therefore encompasses all of these identity issues with race, gender, culture, class, you name it. The argument here is slightly different, however, as the belief is that these social barriers were created by elites of society, usually in the past but have stood the test of time. According to sociology, race is socially constructed and is a remnant of our history. This brings me to wonder: Is the only solution time alongside awareness? Since race was socially constructed long ago by elites, is the solution to have elites of today’s society redefine society? How is this possible?
My biggest question which troubles me deeply is how to get rid of these distinctions that divides us. What are the steps necessary to become a global society? Is it possible? Is this even desirable? Please let me know what you think, I’d be interested in knowing your opinions.
Until next time, blogging off…
Ryan
Hey bloggers,
Last class we had a brief introduction to language poetry, and we took a quick look at the poem “Susie Asado” by Gertrude Stein. This sparked my interest, as we are currently looking at Pablo Picasso’s work in my Art History class. Picasso’s work is known to have been greatly influenced by Gertrude Stein herself. Both Stein and Picasso have similar stories in their respective fields. Picasso revolutionised the art world with the birth of Cubism, rejecting any kind of rules set by the French Academy at the time. Similarly, Stein rejected the conventional rules of poetry to help create language poetry.
Now to delve quickly into linguistics and Ferdinand de Saussure’s theory of the signifier and the signified. In his theory, Saussu
re divides a sign into two parts: the “signifier” and the “signified”. The signifier is the sound or word, while the signified is the actual concept (whether real or not). As you can see on the diagram, the word “tree” is the signifier, and the actual living thing is the signified. The signifier is arbitrary, a sound in the room. If you see an “open” sign in a shop, it is a signifier for the signified concept that the shop is open.
Now back to language poetry, Stein, and Picasso. As we saw in class, language poetry denotes the material aspects of language as opposed to the semantic. It also emphasizes the disjunction and materiality of the signifier, because words are merely sounds after all. We see Stein using these arbitrary words in “Susie Asado” to depict flamenco dancing through the sounds the words make. Picasso goes through a radical change in style in 1907, which is undoubtedly influenced in part by Stein. He starts using seemingly random objects to depict something completely different, just as Stein used random (random as in irrelevant to the actual denotation) words to convey flamenco dancing. They both are representing their meaning abstractly. Stein pays no attention to the actual definition of words, but instead utilizes them to evoke something very different. For example, the words “tray sure” in the poem could mean “treasure” or “très sure” in French (as Stein lived in Paris at the time), and in that way they are completely arbitrary. Some of Picasso’s works include the signifier in the title (Ma Jolie, Bottle and Wineglass) to step away from the representation itself. Without these signifiers, the audience would not have a way of knowing what was being depicted in the painting; just as it would be very difficult to realize Stein is conveying flamenco dancing without knowing Susie Asado was a flamenco dancer.
Before I blog off, I would like to ask: what is the signified without the signifier and visa versa? That will be all for today, and I apologize for getting (literally) abstract.
Blogging off,
Ryan.
Picasso- Ma Jolie
Picasso- Bottle and Wineglass
Hey bloggers, it’s been a while since our last blog, though it definitely doesn’t feel like it. Anyways, the obvious topic for today is Jonathan Foer’s Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. I will be giving some of my impressions on this novel while also asking some questions.
Throughout the novel, especially near the beginning, I was asking myself what 9/11 actually had to do with the plot. It may seem slightly ignorant, but I wondered how much the story would have changed if Oskar’s father had died in a car accident instead. This was before I had reached the Dresden bombing, so it made more sense once I got to that chapter since there was some kind of connection in between the two events (which I will talk a little bit bout later). To understand this try to take yourself back to before you knew about the Dresden bombings. If the incident that had taken Thomas Jr.’s life was a car accident, the symbolism would have been much different. Maybe Oskar would be afraid of taking taxis or being in cars or even walking on the streets, as we know he has a lot of phobias that seem a little irrational. A car crash is much less significant than 9/11, and is a very common incident for a book or movie, which simply wouldn’t fit in this novel (considering how different this novel is from anything I’ve read). The absence of a body wouldn’t be an issue, and Oskar would know how his father died. I still don’t know exactly the significance of using 9/11, but I know it would be a lot less interesting using a car accident.
As I mentioned in the earlier paragraph, I wondered what the connection was in between the Dresden bombings and 9/11. We discussed some topics in class, and Isaiah brought up the point of relativity. One connection between the two events is the relativity of good. The Allies in WW2 bombed Dresden, which was highly controversial because it wasn’t the most strategic target, but it was somewhat justified by war. My point is that the Allies believed they were doing what needed to be done to win the war, but the civilians that were killed obviously saw this as a horrible act. The same can be said about 9/11, where the terrorists linked to it believed this terrible act was necessary, but the Western world saw it as one of the worst things possible. Oskar’s family had the misfortune of experiencing both of these events and being on the enemy side on both occasions.
I also thought about the effect of the losses on each character. Grandma and Thomas Sr. had lost two people very close to them (Thomas Sr. didn’t really know his son, but it still counts), while Oskar had only lost one. When thinking of the effects, Oskar’s grandparents had much more dramatic changes than Oskar. I came up with a possible argument that the grandparents finally learned how to live after the second loss. Thomas Jr.’s death brought Thomas Sr. back to New York, where he slowly had better relations with Grandma, and was able to meet Oskar which he spent time with almost like a father figure. Grandma and her relation to Oskar did not seem like it changed much except she was just more careful, but her relation to Thomas Sr. had changed. We only get a glimpse of the new life they live, but it seems they have figured something out, and Thomas Sr. meeting Oskar makes me believe he won’t be leaving again.
These are my immediate impressions/questions about the book, but these may change upon reading Ilka Saal’s article, and further discussing in class. Thanks for reading.
Blogging off, Ryan.
Hey bloggers, as everyone is obviously writing the same thing, I suppose I don’t need much of an intro. For any that possibly don’t know, our ASTU class ventured into UBC’s archives. We had all of Joy Kogawa’s fond available to us, which was quite interesting. I don’t know if other schools have similar archives, but it is cool to know that we have this available at any time. To be completely honest, I am not sure how much use I will get out of it personally, but this is a great tool for English and literature students I’m sure. One of the things that struck me was the old newspapers. It was so bizarre to see the language and the culture of that time period. We could see a lot of words such as “Japs”, and all the advertisements were typical of the 80’s. However, what I was really interested in were Kogawa’s drafts. When versions of the book are right in front of you, with the author’s handwriting on the page, there is a feeling of satisfaction, of authenticity. In my visual arts class, we talk a lot about paintings and pictures and how the internet has possibly decreased the value of these artworks by democratizing them. For example, the Mona Lisa, worth millions of dollars, can be found on the internet by the click of a button. It is somewhat the same with Joy Kogawa’s Obasan. Since we are all reading these printed versions that hundreds of students have also read, one does not think much about the author or the process. Seeing the process through which she wrote, and knowing that this piece of paper is an original, and only one exists, really shines a new light on the book. It’s almost as if you can put yourself in her shoes for a second, and relive the creation of an award-winning novel. Again, I am not sure how much use I will get out of these archives, but I am grateful for the experience. And if I do ever decide to use it, I know what to do. 
Here is a picture taken of a letter sent by an elementary school student to Kogawa that I thought was quite humorous to provide a little bit of comic relief to my blog. It reads “Dear Mrs. Kogawa, I did not realy like the book because nothing realy happend in it. Your friend Joel.” (spelling mistakes intentional)
Thanks for reading, and as always, blogging off.
Ryan Bednar
Works Cited
Unknown, Joel. Letter from Joel (last name unknown) to Joy Kogawa. N.d. Box 12 File 2. Joy Kogawa fonds. University of British Columbia Library Rare Books and Special Collections, Vancouver, Canada.
Hey fellow Global Citizens,
This blog I will be steering away from the “mainstream” things, I suppose, such as Safe Area Gorazde and Obasan. This is in part because we discuss them quite in depth in class, making it less exciting to write about, and as well it’s a nice change for the class bloggers to read (which I noticed when doing my class blogger duty).
Anyways, on to my actual blog post. In this short amount of time that I’ve been in university, I have read more scholarly articles than in my entire life combined. Especially in the fields of Art, theories are so abstract, which is not usual to me or probably many of you either. I took a fair amount of science courses in high school, and was unsure whether to study arts or sciences at UBC. In the sciences, theories and laws are backed by formulas and numbers; they are solid facts in a way. In arts however, there are many theories on certain subjects, which are all similar but usually with different names. When reading articles on “collective memory” for ASTU or “globalization” for Poli-sci, every scholar argues their point of view, usually backed by other scholars. There are so many scholarly articles, yet there are so many divisions and contradicting arguments on the same topics. With a scholar arguing his view, and then another scholar arguing hers, how do you know who’s right? Flash-back to one of Dr. Erickson’s lectures where he said “when one states they are just, they are immediately unjust” (or something along those lines). Can this be used in the context of when one states they are right, they are wrong? I’ll meddle with religion quickly, but I’m not in any way putting religion down. Religion relates to this idea that there are so many different theories, all of which totally believe they are the sole theory. So by saying your religion is the right one, you may be in a sense wrong just because there are so many religions out there claiming the exact same thing. This is highly controversial, but it was just to go along with the point of multiple theories. So when I am reading all these articles, I cannot help but feel skepticism, unless I am presented with hard evidence, which is not always presented in the arts. Back to ASTU: reporting verbs and modals. These are so important, as it shows one is arguing a point, rather than saying they are right, or imposing their full opinion on the reader (ex: I argue this could be the most important theory). Also the use of proof, as Shahzad provides in her article, strongly backs her argument.
To conclude, I ask you: How can one truly be right (The Real Truth)? If you claim to be right, are you wrong? Is being right an ongoing process? Please let me know what you think, and know that I did not mean any offense with the religious part!
Until next time, blogging off,
Ryan
Hey fellow ASTU bloggers, for today’s post I will be talking about the style in which Persepolis is drawn. I am interested in this as I myself enjoy drawing, and I do like comic books. I grew up reading a lot of comic books, and even created my own that I kept going for quite some time. The style that Marjane Satrapi uses intrigues me, and in the three weeks that I have been in Arts, I have realized that we ask a lot of questions. Therefore I ask: why does Satrapi use this style for her graphic narrative?
What immediately catches my attention is the absence of colour as well as the simplicity of the art. Typically in literature black symbolizes darkness (obviously), sadness, death, etc. The Islamic Revolution, as well as the Iran-Iraq War in which Satrapi lives through is a tragic and dark time, so the large presence of black really suits the mood. There is a fair amount of comic relief, which in my opinion is a good addition to her book, otherwise it could have been a little too somber.
The simplicity of the drawing style also makes me wonder. Is the aim of the this simple drawing-style to direct the attention to the topic of the story as opposed to the drawings themselves? I think that Satrapi really wants her audience to understand her message instead of getting lost in the images, possibly looking for meaning that isn’t there.
Marjane Satrapi really takes advantage of the genre to convey her story. Today in class, we got together in small groups to briefly discuss Persepolis, and we talked about how the story simply would not be the same without these drawings. Some of these images are very abstract and dark, invoking a lot of emotion into the text.
I obviously do not know Marjane’s true intentions, but this is what she has led me to believe in her interesting genre and style.
Hello to my fellow Art Studies students! As this is my first blog post I will give a quick introduction of myself so you know my background somewhat. I was born in France as my parents moved there in their twenties for work purposes (which ended up being permanent), and I was born there along with my two younger brothers. I moved to Canada, where my parents were originally from, about ten years into my life. I am not telling you this information for no reason, it does tie in with my topic of this post: globalization. This may be one of the more common topics for our first posts, but I did find one of the points discussed during our joint lecture interesting as I felt it related to me (and could relate to some of you), and I just wanted to share it.
Someone in our joint lecture brought up the idea of losing our nationality with the rise of globalization, and ethnicity will be a thing of the past. I immediately thought of my own family, as I am a French and Canadian citizen, as to say I have a dual nationality. My parents were both born in Canada, but their parents have different roots. North America is often referr
ed to as a melting pot, because of the mass immigration that has been ongoing since basically its discovery, and the assimilation of all cultures into one. This flow towards the “new world” that once was is now a two-way road, as modern North American students are finding opportunities in Europe, and international students choose to study in North America. Professor Dilley spoke to us about the increased fluidity that allows people to move all around to world with ease. This is the direct tie to losing our roots. Our family trees will branch off so far with future generations being born all over the world, that our original roots will be lost and it will be a question of citizenship as opposed to ethnicity. I identify myself as a French and Canadian citizen, yet my roots do not extend to either of these countries. I don’t feel as if I am a completely “Canadian” or “French”, as I am just a citizen with no ancestry rooted into these countries.
With a university as diverse as this one, I am sure many of you can relate to this. I think nationality will no longer be something as important, but just a characteristic. I would expect this to fully develop in many generations from now, so for the time being we can cherish this thing that we value. I chose this topic because I thought it was interesting, as well as it related to me, our whole CAP stream of Global Citizenship, and maybe some of you individually. So until next time, I am Ryan Bednar, and I am logging off, or ‘blogging’ off.
P.S. Sorry about that pun.
